


Winter Wonderland

by valderys



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-16
Updated: 2010-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valderys/pseuds/valderys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Pippin discovers there's better things than snowball fights...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rubynye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/gifts).



> Written in 2004 as a little Christmas prezzie!

The tree made a good hiding place, thought Merry, as he cautiously poked his nose past the edges of the heavily laden branches until he could see the wide meadow, covered thickly in snow like a bed with a fluffy white counterpane. The crisp morning was filled with the shrieks of many hobbits all having fun, running about wrapped up like woolly Yule presents, and the air was filled with missiles – although none of them aimed at _him_, he was pleased to say. There was something to be said for the miraculous powers of an Elvish cloak – oh yes, there was, for all that the snowball fight had been his idea, and as glad as he was to see his and Pippin's guests all having fun in the snow. Soon, it would be more fun still to head back once more to the little house at Crickhollow and continue the party indoors, with hot roast chestnuts and mugs of mulled wine, and fingers and toes pleasantly thawing out in the warmth of a cheerful fire. Oh yes, Merry was looking forward to that even more…

Wumph. And as suddenly as that he found he was choking on a mouthful of snow, come hurtling out of nowhere to smack him in the mouth and powder in his hair. Merry blinked melting snow out of his eyes and found he was smiling grimly, even as his fists curled up a handful of his own snow into a suitable missile of revenge. Now where was the wretch? Aha!

To be fair, it wasn't like Pippin was trying to hide himself any more. In fact his high-pitched laughter was coming with gusto, great snorting gulps of it, and Merry reddened a little as he contemplated the little fiend, who'd managed to creep up to within yards of his own hiding place. Miraculous Elvish cloaks indeed…

"Oh Merry! Your face!"

Pip was going to pay for this – he really was! Merry had hidden for a reason, he didn't like being wet, or cold, or… or… picked on! He was host to these guests, he wanted to make sure everyone was having fun, he wanted to be on hand if anyone needed anything, he wanted… Merry ignored the small voice that told him he was being a wet blanket, and instead tried to scowl at Pippin, who just laughed harder.

Right then, they'd see about that! Merry lunged forward and tackled the cackling reprobate, fully intending to stuff the snow he was holding down Pippin's shirt. They both went flying, their feet skidding out from under them, and Merry ruthlessly pressed his advantage, and his greater weight, to thrust the snow down as far as he could reach, even as Pippin wriggled frantically away from him, shouting "No! Nooo!" in a breathless giggle.

Serves him right, Merry thought triumphantly as he held both of Pip's hands above his head, and ground them into the pine needles beneath them, and watched the snow fall onto Pip's face as it pattered down from the disturbed branches of the tree above. Why they'd rolled right underneath it in their struggles, Merry thought absently, as he watched a single large flake melt into oblivion on the very tip of Pip's nose. Pippin was breathing hard after their exertions and his cheeks were as round and rosy as an apple, pink with the cold. And it occurred to Merry that he wanted to bite them, just like an apple, and he licked his lips, tasting snow, and watched Pippin stop laughing, all at once, like turning off a tap.

The snow in Merry's hand was melting, he could feel it, melting in the heat of his fingers and the warmth of the silken skin of Pip's belly, under his shirt, and he could feel Pip's breath starting to hitch a little, and his stomach was quivering. Merry grinned then, a feral kind of grin, he guessed, because Pip's eyes widened a little, just before Merry opened his fist and ground the snow down onto that skin, just to see Pip's eyes darken, and his mouth open in a sudden gasp of shock. But Pippin didn't wriggle away this time, not this time, and Merry found instead that he was moving, grinding his hips a little, and he wanted… Oh he wanted…

Then it was Pippin's turn to grin and he arched his body, hands still pinned above him, and Merry gasped, before growling and plunging down, burying his mouth in Pippin's neck and giving in to that insistent urge. He bit down, gently, and then not so gently, as Pippin arched again and moaned low in his throat.

Merry could smell the pine needles in Pippin's curls, and taste the clean salt of him, and it made him hungry somehow, hungry for skin, and for little breathy broken noises and… He bit gently all along the line of Pip's jaw, and down his throat, tasting him, the fresh edible Pippin-ness of him and growled anew, into his hair, into the soft little folds by his ear, and Pippin quivered, yes quivered again, and Merry took it into himself and shivered in response.

Then it was all too much to hold back from; desperately Merry dragged his hand out of Pip's shirt, the feel of the warm flesh beyond delicious, and out into the bitter cold of the winter air, the chill nipping at his fingers. He began fumbling urgently at his straining trouser buttons and Pip's own, and cursed when they were stubborn and wouldn't give as fast as he wanted them to. One hand wasn't enough, surely wasn't enough for this, but he didn't want to let Pip go – not when he _quivered_ when pinned quite so delightfully… Pip was grinning wickedly up at him again, for all that his cheeks were flushed further and a tell-tale hardness of his own was making Merry's own job with the buttons that much harder. Oh, Merry thought, that's quite enough of that, my lad, now let's see… and began to roll his hips, just as the last buttons popped, freeing eager flesh to the freezing air.

That sudden cold on tender warmth was enough to make him bite his lip, but it didn't stop him, just made pressing forward onto Pippin that much more urgent. Merry leant down, pressing his other hand onto Pip's wrists too, and watching his eyelids slowly fall shut as Merry began to move in earnest now, sweet hot flesh sliding together, and the roughness of the fabric surrounding them only adding to the delicious friction. It was too cold to free anything more, he knew that, and although Merry regretted he couldn't feel more of Pippin's silken skin, he also liked knowing that Pip was pinned in more ways than one, caught and wrapped up in scarf, and coat, and by Merry himself… Oh yes, captured and punished for his earlier attack, oh yes, it served him right indeed…

Merry gasped as Pippin moved then, and he looked down again to see Pip's little teeth bared in an eagerness of his own, and Merry couldn't hold back any longer, he bent and captured Pip's mouth and bit at that too, all open and willing, and tasting of snow, hot and fervent under his tongue. Their movements were becoming more urgent now, and Merry knew that prickling wool, and the slide of their bodies, and the delicious feel of Pip's mouth under his own, would be enough to bring him, more than enough, if truth be told. He had time for a fleeting hope that Pip would be all right too, before his peak overwhelmed him and he inhaled sharply, taking Pippin's breath from his own lips, and grinding his pinned hips and wrists into the ground as he writhed.

In the silence, sometime later, as Merry felt his own hammering heartbeat begin to slow, he heard the ghost of a laugh tickle his ear as he lay with his mouth pressed close to Pippin's jaw. Snow still pattered down around them from the disturbed tree, Merry could feel the odd flake fall like a frozen kiss on the back of his hot neck. As he opened his eyes and dragged his unwilling body away, it looked to Merry like Pippin's hair was full of stars, and he couldn't stop smiling at the sight, as foolish and absurd as he must seem, dazzled in the end by his own feelings, and by the light he saw reflected in Pippin's eyes.

Then Pippin bucked slightly and Merry fell off, landing with a small thump and a cut-off curse at his side. The air was still as cold as ever and bit at tender flesh like a knife, so Merry scrambled for his handkerchief and cleaned and tucked everything away as rapidly as possible, aware of Pip doing the same at his side. Merry turned to him with exasperation just starting to well up at the rude treatment, when he caught sight of Pip surreptitiously rubbing his wrists. His conscience woke up viciously then, and swooping guilt pricked at him, along with an awareness that he hadn't meant for this to happen, that he'd been unforgivably abrupt, hadn't asked, or done anything for Pippin...

Feeling like an utter scoundrel, Merry reached and took Pippin's hands and gently warmed them between his own, before looking up a little shyly into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Pip. I got a bit carried away."

His wrists weren't too bad really, just a touch of pinkness, and the little stippled indentations from the pine needles were starting to fade already, he was sure. Merry hoped bruises wouldn't develop later but he didn't think they would…

"Just a bit, yes." Pip's voice was stern. Merry looked down again, feeling horrible, and began delicately smoothing the reddened skin with his thumbs. "So the sooner we can get rid of all these visitors the better, that's what _I_ say."

Merry looked up, startled. "What?"

"Well, if you're starting to behave like a rabid dog in heat, and ravishing me under trees with respectable hobbits not even dozens of yards away, then I think it's high time!"

"Pippin!"

"Well, you did, Merry. Sort of." And was that more laughter in Pip's voice? Merry wasn't sure through the horrible roaring of his guilt. He glanced down again and felt Pip lean forward and rub his cheek against Merry's hair, "And I liked it, silly. And I want more. You'd know that, if you thought about it, you daft Brandybuck."

"Ridiculous Took," he murmured back, overcome with another rush of unutterable love for this most beloved of cousins.

"So, I think that parties are all very well, and it's been lovely to see everyone, and have them stay, and tell our tales, and all that, but…"

"But?"

"It's time to go home, Merry. Not everyone. Just us. Time to go home."

And Merry lifted his head a little, barely enough to brush his lips against Pippin's, and then laid his forehead on Pip's shoulder.

"No more parties?"

"No more parties."

The air was cold, but he was as warm as toast. And lucky. How did he get to be so very lucky?

"Yes," he breathed, finding happiness sitting and squeezing on his chest so hard he could barely talk. "Yes, all right. Let's go home."


End file.
